Frost's Musician

[The title of this story is only a working title, a play off of the title of another music-related story of mine called "Hell's Musician." Also, the character Saiyame is not mine, but a friend's, and I was given permission to use her since I allowed her creator to use Braeden. This story is still being written and I will add more randomly. Lastly, I enjoy throwing phrases of Japanese in and apologize in advance for misspellings and the like; it's been a while. Thanks for taking the time to look.]

Draft Only: Unedited

"Frost's Musician"
By Kaylea D. /Shana Rider

         In his dream, a long, sinewy dragon twisted and writhed through the frigid night sky. Its muscled and whipping frame flew without winds, carried by its own power an an energy that was like sparks of electricity on his skin. He watched the silvery creature as though he were flying alongside it, his heart suddenly jumping wildly as the dragon turned its face toward him. The long, oriental-style whispkers on the side of its face whipped in the wind and the dragon, he knew, was smiling at him. A strong pulse of that wonderful energy and the dragon flew faster, leaving him behind. A few flakes of snow floated about the cold air. Somehow, he knew he could catch up to the dazzling beast.
         He knew where they were going. The thought made him shudder, though he did not know why. And sure enough, there it was. A feeling of familiarity he did not understand crashed through him. He wanted to vomit and sing at the same time, for there was also dread running through his veins. Part of him wanted to scream at the dragon he was following, to beg it to stop and turn back, but his mouth was clamped shut and his chest heavy and without breath. He tried to turn back, but the dream pushed him forward.
         The black palace was covered in a sheet of ice and gleamed with a light of its own. He hated it, as he had known he would. It was the dragon he felt compelled to watch. It circled the tallest tower of the crystal building his very soul hated, landing there, digging its claws into the ice. The frozen blanket groaned and cracked, protesting the dragon's touch. The beast's white eyes caught his own. It burned, filled him with guilt, and made his pulse fly.
         A long roar ripped open the night and something like a bell shook in his ears. The ice shattered, only to grow again into spiked that blazed like knives. The beautiful dragon was impaled upon them. Its death throwes slung blood into the sky and onto his face. He thought about screaming, but that would be pointless.
         The roar had been his own.

[More typed up when I get more time and energy. Lord only knows if I'll catch up with what I've written.]